Ohana
by Kelcor
Summary: Sequel to Phobia. Steve makes some surprising discoveries about his past. Rated 'T' just to be safe. No Slash. Steve/Danny friendship.
1. Chapter 1

Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett laid in his hospital bed, trying not to think too much about his most recent encounter with Victor Hesse, while, at the same time, needing to do just that. Something Victor had said yesterday had upset and bothered Steve but he just couldn't seem to be able to put his finger on it. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was, as the doctor was insisting, the trauma of the chain of events that had ultimately landed him in the ER and, shortly thereafter, this hospital room... but, more likely, it was these stupid painkillers the doctor insisted he continue to take. Regardless of the reason, Steve knew in his gut that it was something he _needed _to know.

He already had Chin and Kono making every attempt possible to locate his sister, who had chosen this time of all times to volunteer with the Habitat for Humanity, and could, literally, be anywhere in the world right now. To be honest, Steve was counting his blessings because if Five-0 couldn't find her easily, then neither could Hesse. Still, every minute he wasn't in contact with his little sister, just served to jack up his anxiety that much more.

Thankfully, he shouldn't be in the hospital much longer. His injuries were healing nicely. Truth be told, all he really needed was a bit of rest. Granted, he had some bruised ribs - maybe a cracked one, too - multiple bruises and contusions on his back and legs from the billy club, and, of course, the broken finger, perhaps a bit of freezer burn as Danny liked to put it... but, all in all, he was feeling ready to get back in the game. I mean, yeah, the painkillers probably had a little something to do with that but, whatever, Steve had to get out there and find Hesse before Hesse found Mary! And maybe, just maybe, once he got these drugs out of his system, _maybe_ he'd be able to remember whatever else it was that Hesse had taunted him with in that fish packing plant.

Unfortunately, Danny had other plans and was currently arguing his case on why Steve should remain in the hospital for who knew how long. But, despite his eagerness to get away from the overbearing nurses and the smell of antiseptic, Steve couldn't help but be a little amused at the sight of his partner pacing back and forth across his hospital room. Door to window and back again, hands waving in the air as he spoke.

"Danny, I'm fine," he said for what seemed like the millionth time.

"'_I'm fine', _he says. '_I'm fine'," _Danny repeated, barely sparing Steve a glance as he continued his mission to wear a hole into the unsuspecting ceramic tiles beneath his feet. "Well, excuse me if I'd prefer to hear that from the doctor, Mr. Freeze."

Steve sighed at the new nickname Danny had taken to calling him once the hypothermia scare had dwindled into a distant 'what coulda-been' memory. "I'm good to go, honest."

The detective stopped at the foot of McGarrett's bed and stared at him incredulously. "Good to go? Good to go? Let me tell you something, you are anything **but** good to go," he stated, emphasizing the last three words by making quotation marks in the air with his fingers. "May I remind you that **you almost died** yesterday? Almost died, Steve. As in dead. As in no-longer-breathing-heart-not-beating-in-the-ground... DEAD!"

Okay, so much for it all being a memory. "Well, now, that's a little overly dramatic, don't you think?" Steve did his best to hide the smirk that was threatening to make itself known but knew he was failing miserably. Nevertheless, his partner turned a million shades of red and McGarrett was pretty sure implosion would occur in t-minus 5 seconds. 4... 3... 2... 1...

"Overly dramatic? Overly dramatic?"

Right on time. "Look, Danno, I've had worse, okay? And that's _without _the hospital stay."

"Yeah, well, that was because you didn't have someone around who cared enough about you to make sure you took care of yourself. In case you haven't noticed, things are different now."

Danny's blatant honesty, quite literally left Steve McGarrett speechless. Though his lips did quirk ever so slightly at the pink tinge suddenly making itself known on his partner's cheeks when he realized that he had, once again, failed to engage the brain-to-mouth editing device.

The doctor's entrance rescued Danny from his own mortification. His complexion quickly returned to normal, which apparently made it possible for him to see the smile on Steve's face. Deliberately ignoring the SEAL, Danny returned his attention to the doctor, intent on grilling the poor man on every detail of his partner's condition.

Steve beat him to the punch. "What's the verdict, doc? When can I get out of here?"

The doctor raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Not for another few days, at least."

Danny spread his arms out in a '_See? I was right!' _gesture. "Thank you," he exclaimed to the doctor.

"A few days?" Steve exclaimed. "No way. I am not staying here for three days."

"You might notice," Danny pointed out, smugly, "that he said 'three days, _**at least**_'." He turns to the doctor for confirmation that he clearly didn't need. "Am I right?"

The doctor nodded, not at all sure he wanted to allow himself to be pulled into this particular argument.

"Danny - " Steve said, somehow managing to mix both a whine and a growl into that one word.

"Steve - " Danny returned, in a way that emphasized that neither tone affected him in the least.

At that moment, an especially beautiful nurse entered the room. Her long dark hair spilled over her shoulders and her short white dress accentuated her curves perfectly, with just enough buttons left open to send the imagination of every man in the room into rampant overdrive.

"On the other hand," Steve muttered. "A longer than usual hospital stay might not be completely out of the question."

Danny threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that sooner." Addressing the nurse this time, he said, "Excuse me?"

"Yes," she asked, her smile managing to disarm even Danny's current frustration with his stubborn partner, causing the detective to completely forget what he was going to say.

After a moment, his memory returned, however. "Could I possibly ask you to come into this room two, maybe three times a day? I'll even pay you, if it will keep this stubborn SOB from checking himself out AMA."

The nurse looked at Steve first, who just smiled and said, "Please, excuse my partner, he's a little acronym-happy today." Her gaze then went to the doctor for some kind of confirmation that these two weren't in the wrong ward of the hospital. The doctor simply nodded and shrugged.

"Well, it's kinda my job," she told Danny, her own tone more than a little amused.

"So, that's a yes, then?"

"Sure," she said, raising her eyebrows at the doctor, as if to say '_Are these guys for real?'. _

She then moved over to the bed to check Steve's vitals. For his part, Steve busted out the big guns and gave her his best I'm-adorable-dontcha-just-wanna-hug-me smile... and Danny shook his head when she seemed to swoon almost instantly.

H50H50H50H50

When Danny entered the room early the next morning, he had a large manila envelope in his hands and his mood was noticeably more serious. Steve knew something was up but the painkillers made it near impossible for him to gauge his partner's mood with any certainty. His groggy mind feared the worst, however...

"Mary?" Steve asked, somewhat panicked.

"What?" Danny was confused at first, then realized exactly what his partner was asking. "No, no. Mary's fine. I mean, we haven't been able to find her yet but there's no evidence that Hesse has either." He placed a calming hand on Steve's shoulder. "It's okay, Steve. You can breathe now. Breathe."

Taking his partner's advice, McGarrett forced his heartbeat to slow and pulled air into his lungs. _She's the only family I have left. _

Steve hadn't realized that he had voiced his fears aloud until his partner responded:

"Look, she's your baby sister. I get that. And we are going to find her. But let's get something straight. She is not the only family you have. Okay? You told me not so long ago that I'm not alone on this island. Logically, that would mean that neither are you."

Averting his eyes, Steve gave a quick nod. After a moment, he cleared his throat and returned his gaze to the detective. "Okay. So, what have you got?"

Danny gave McGarrett's shoulder a quick squeeze, then got back to the business at hand. He pulled an 8x10 black and white photo out of the envelope and handed it to Steve. It had clearly been taken with a telephoto lens. "What am I looking at?"

"I had called one of my contacts near Kaaawa to ask him to do some reconnaissance for me, see if Hesse had been in contact with anyone in or around the fish packing plant within a week of your abduction."

"And?" Steve prompted.

"Well, look here," Danny told him, directing his gaze to a couple sitting at a table outside a small cafe. "The guy in the photo is Hesse, no doubt about it. We're still waiting on the identity of the woman he's with. Might be an accomplice. Might be the subject of the other 'more important things' you said Hesse had mentioned. Either way, she's definitely a person of interest."

Steve peered closely at the photo in silence for several long moments. "When was this picture taken?"

"Well, that's just it. While my guy was looking into Hesse's possible whereabouts last week, he happened upon the man himself and did some surveillance of his own."

"What are you saying?"

"Steve, this photo was taken yesterday afternoon. Just a few hours after he locked you in that freezer."

McGarrett simply nodded, then: "Listen, Danny, I'm a little tired. Could we maybe pick this up again later this afternoon? I think I need to get some sleep."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. It's these painkillers. They're really doing a number on my energy level."

Danny instantly put his hand to Steve's forehead, checking for a fever in a somewhat mocking manner, though his concern was still more than evident. Steve gritted his teeth but forced himself to endure the child-like treatment. Seemingly satisfied that his partner wasn't going to die from a too high fever, Danny capitulated, albeit reluctantly. "Okay. I'll, uh, I'll see you later today, then."

"Good," McGarrett said, sliding further down onto the bed and closing his eyes. "Thanks, Danny."

H50H50H50H50

After a brief argument with the doctor, Steve signed the release papers which stipulated that he was leaving the hospital AMA, put on the spare clothes that Danny had brought to him on the condition that he remain under doctor supervision for as long as the _doctor _deemed it necessary, and slipped through the hospital's sliding doors. He felt more than a little bit guilty for breaking his promise to his partner but this was an unforeseen circumstance...

"Going somewhere," a voice asked from behind him.

McGarrett spun around to find Danny leaning casually against the exterior wall of the hospital, one leg bent up so that the sole of his shoe was pressed against the brick. The smug detective even had a magazine in his hands as if he had been passing the time while he waited for the SEAL to pull something just like this. Maybe he had. Huh. Steve had to admit, Danny's skills at deduction never ceased to amaze him.

"This isn't what it looks like," Steve attempted, having the good grace to look contrite.

"Really? Because it looks to me like you're breaking a promise - a promise you made _to my face_, by the way - and checking yourself out AMA."

"Okay, it is what it looks like. But I can explain."

"There's no need to explain."

"There isn't?"

"Nope. Something about the photo caught your interest and, figuring you couldn't trust me, _your partner, _you decided to try to dupe me into thinking that you, Super Seal aka Energizer Bunny, were tired so that I would leave you alone to do whatever foolhardy thing you have in mind to catch Hesse on your own. Does that about cover it?"

"Yes," Steve admitted. Then, quickly added, "Except for the not trusting you part."

"Really."

"Really. Of course, I trust you, Danno."

"Right. Which is why you confided in me instead of trying to get rid of me."

"I wasn't trying to get rid of you," he began, but retracted his words as soon as he met Danny's glare head on. "Okay, I was trying to get rid of you. But it wasn't my trust in you that I doubted. It was _your_ trust in _me_."

"Okay, that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. What kind of drugs did they give you, anyway?"

"Danny, I'm serious."

"Fine. What is it that you think would make me not trust you?"

"It's crazy, Danny. It's completely crazy. I mean, I'm even questioning my _own_ sanity, here."

"All the more reason for you to tell me what's going through that head of yours. You recognized the woman in the picture, didn't you?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean... I think so."

"Well, thank you for clearing that up, Captain Articulate."

"Danny. The woman in that photo. The woman sitting at that cafe with Hesse... she's my mom."

The detective stared at Steve for a long moment, one eye brow raised. "Your mom? You mean, the woman who died in a car bombing when you were sixteen years old? That mom?"

"Yeah."

Danny grasped Steve by the elbow and began to lead him back into the hospital. "You're right. You are crazy."

McGarrett easily slipped from Danny's half-hearted hold and stepped a few feet back towards the parking lot. "Don't you think I know that," he exploded. "My mother has been dead for close to nineteen years. There is no way she had brunch with Hesse yesterday afternoon. Yet, I could almost swear that's her in the photo."

Steve's chest heaved with the exertion of saying that all in one breath, his hand moving to his ribs automatically to try to quell the sharp pain developing near his lungs.

"Okay, okay," Danny said in a calming tone, his hands raised in supplication. "Let's say it is your mom, for argument's sake. How is that possible? I mean, are we in an episode of _Supernatural,_ here? Should we call in Sam and Dean Winchester?"

"I don't know how it's possible, Danny. I just know what I see."

Instead of leading Steve back into the hospital, Danny guided him to his car and opened the passenger side door.

"Where are we going?"

"To Kaaawa to do some investigating of our own," Danny explained. "I mean, that is what we do, isn't it?"

Steve made a move to step around Danny but the shorter man blocked him.

"No way. I'm driving."

"Why?"

"Seriously, Steve, would you allow someone pumped full of painkillers and seeing his long dead mother in recent photographs drive a motorized vehicle?"

The SEAL thought about that for a moment, then said, "Good point," and slid into the passenger seat.

A few moments later, they were pulling out of the parking lot. Steve glanced at his partner, his head cocked to one side, and asked, "Since when do you watch _Supernatural_?"

"What? I don't."

"You knew their names, Danno."

"Can we just focus on the case, please?"

Steve chuckled softly. Thankful for a bit of levity, something he could always count on with Danny Williams as a partner... well, most of the time, anyway. Usually, just when he needed it most.

"Besides," Danny pointed out, "_you _knew I said their names correctly_."_

_TBC..._


	2. Chapter 2

Apparently, the cafe was a regular hang out for the lady in question so, all they had to do was show her picture to the staff and _Presto! _they had a name - Irene Beckett. A phone call to Kono a few minutes later and they had an address.

After pulling up to their destination, Steve and Danny just sat and stared at the house.

"You know," Danny said, "my buddy used a telephoto lens and it was from quite a distance to avoid being seen."

"So," Steve prompted, continuing to study the house.

"So, it was not a close up view of this woman by any means. Maybe she just LOOKS like your mother."

"Yeah. Maybe."

The car was filled with an apprehensive silence once again.

"But what if it is her?" Steve asked, sounding a little too hopeful for Danny's liking. "What if dad hid her here all these years to protect her and Wo Fat found out and wants Hesse to take another shot at killing her? What if that's the call he got yesterday at the fish packing plant?" Without another word, he hopped out and made his way around the front of the car.

Danny jumped out after him and, once again, blocked his path. He placed both hands on Steve's chest to both stop him and get his attention. "Okay, let's just back it up for a second here."

"Why, Danny?"

"Why? Because that's a whole lotta ifs. Look, Steve, we have no idea what we're dealing with here. If this really is your mom, then she's been in hiding for over 18 years, do you really want to just barge in on her?"

"Danny - " Steve began, an almost pleading tone to his voice.

"You need to know, I get it, okay? But just think about this for a second and add a few more ifs to the equation. What if you're wrong? What if this lady is not your mom? What if this is all some cruel joke that Hesse has laid out for you?" He paused and gentled his tone. "Will you be okay with that?"

"I'll be fine, Danny."

"Are you sure about that? Because I'm seeing a boat load of hope in your eyes, right now, partner."

"What's wrong with hope, Danny," Steve challenged.

"Nothing wrong with hope. It's the broken heart after that hope doesn't pan out that I'm worried about."

Steve's gaze noticeably softened as he recognized the concern in Danny's words. He placed a hand on his partner's shoulder and said sincerely, "I'll be fine, Danny. Really." Then he brushed past him and started toward the house.

"Yeah," Danny said. "I've heard that before." He paused a moment, then an idea occurred to him and he called after his partner. "Even worse, what if it's a trap?"

McGarrett ignored him and stalked up the driveway to the front door. Danny quickly followed, eyeing any potential escape routes as he went... not to mention, keeping an eye out for anyone wanting to use Steve for target practice.

H50H50H50

The inside door was open. Wonderful smells of a delicious pot roast came through the screen door. They stood on the porch for a long moment before Steve finally reached out and rang the doorbell. Irene came to the door and smiled at the two Five-0 agents through the screen partition.

"Hello? Can I help you?" She was about fifty five years old but could probably pass for forty - she was slim, fit, and didn't seem to have a single wrinkle on her pretty face. This woman really knew how to take care of herself. Her gaze fell on Steve, who couldn't take his eyes off her. "Do I know you," she asked hesitantly.

"Uh," Danny looked up at Steve, waiting to take his lead. McGarrett made eye contact with him and gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head. That coupled with the devastation in his partner's eyes told Danny that this was not, in fact, the late Lillian McGarrett. "No, you don't," he continued, holding up his badge. "Five-0. I'm Detective Williams, this is Lieutenant Commander McGarrett. We'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's okay."

"Oh," Irene said, somewhat surprised and confused. "Sure."

"May we come in," Danny asked.

"Of course. Sorry." She opened the screen door and stepped aside so they could enter. "I'm not used to getting visits from police officers, especially the famed Five-0 task force."

"You've, uh, you've heard of us," Steve asked, uttering his first words since seeing her face just moments ago.

She laughed. "Who hasn't?"

Her laugh was like a beautiful melody, the likes of which you only hear through wind chimes. The two agents couldn't help but return her smile, despite the circumstances. Steve actually looked speechless again. Danny pulled out the photo from the cafe and handed it to Irene.

"Can you tell us how you know this man?"

She looked down at the picture. Her shocked gaze returned to Danny, then Steve. "Have you been following me?"

"No, ma'am," Steve assured her. "We've been following him," he added, pointing Hesse out in the photo.

"Please. It's very important," Danny added. "How do you know him?"

"Well, I don't. Not really."

"But you were having drinks with him," Danny asked, a note of suspicion in his voice.

Either not picking up on the suspicion, or choosing to ignore it, Irene looked back down at the 8x10 glossy. "He works at my son's school, told me he wanted to discuss his grades."

"And did you? Discuss his grades, I mean," Steve inquired, watching as Danny stepped over to a nearby shelf and examined the pictures of a young boy.

"That's what was so weird. We didn't discuss his classes at all. He just kept asking personal things about Jacob. His favourite book, his favourite sports."

"And what did you tell him?"

"Well, at first, I answered his questions, thinking he was just a concerned teacher trying to work his way up to the bigger problem. But when he started asking about Jacob's favourite places to hang out, I told him the meeting was over and I left."

"That was the smart thing to do," Danny offered, still examining the photos. "Did you report him to the school?"

"I was going to but then I thought I was just overreacting, so I decided against it. Now, with your visit, I'm thinking I will contact the principal after all."

"Well, we don't believe this man is a teacher at your son's school but it would probably be best to report the incident anyway," Steve advised.

"Why? I mean, if he doesn't work for the school, what can they do about it?"

Steve made eye contact with Danny, then returned his gaze to Irene. "So, they can keep him from leaving the school with any strangers," he told her gently.

"You think this man will go after Jacob?" She bolted for the door, even as Danny pulled out his cell phone. Steve stepped in front of Irene, blocking her path to the door.

"Please, Mrs. Beckett."

"Get out of my way. I have to get to Jacob. I _need _to see my son!"

"We'll send a uniformed officer over to the school," he told her, knowing that Danny was already calling the local police. "The officer will drive him straight home." He placed both hands on Irene's shoulders and made firm eye contact with her. "We will protect you and your son, I promise you!"

H50H50H50

The three were now sitting in the living room, each with a cup of tea but none really drinking it. Irene kept glancing toward the window. "They should be here soon," Danny assured her. "I know Pete, he's a good guy. He'll make sure Jacob gets here unharmed."

Irene nodded but her eyes continued to jump to the window and the empty street beyond every few seconds .

"Mrs. Beckett," Steve began.

"Call me Irene, please."

"Irene," Steve conceded with a small smile. "Can you tell me why you thought a teacher would be concerned about Jacob?"

"Hmmm?"

"You said that you thought this man was a concerned teacher. Why would you think that?"

"Oh, well, Jacob hasn't been doing well in school lately. His grades are falling. He's been getting into fights. He just has so much... anger inside him. I try to get through to him but I'm 'just his mom'." The last three words were said as if quoting her son.

"Where's his dad," Danny asked. "If you don't mind my asking."

"He died not too long ago," she admitted, her eyes settling on Steve once again.

Danny's gaze strayed back to the photos on the mantel. "Uh, Mrs. Beckett... I mean, Irene... would I be able to get another cup of tea? This one has gotten kind of cold. I've never been a big fan of iced tea," he added with a lopsided grin.

"Oh, sure, of course. How rude of me." She took all three cups and returned to the kitchen to refresh them with hot tea.

Steve regarded his partner with a raised brow. "What's up with you? You hate tea, iced or not."

"Come with me for a second, all right?"

Danny got up from the sofa and led Steve over to the mantel. He held up one of the photos for Steve to look at. "This remind you of anyone?"

McGarrett studied the photo for a long moment, then: "No. Why? Should it?"

With a sigh, Danny grabbed Steve by the shoulders and turned him around to face the mirror on the wall above the mantel. "Take another look," he advised, holding the picture up for him to look at again.

Steve's gaze moved from the mirror to the photo and back again. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Similar smile. He turned to face Danny once again. "What are you trying to say, Danny?"

The detective shrugged noncommittally. "Oh, I don't know, McGarrett. Maybe I'm thinking, where were you, oh, say, fourteen years ago?"

"You think this kid is mine? I may have been with my fair share of women in my time, okay, but I remember every single one of them and I never even _met _Irene before, let alone had a kid with her. Besides, I was still in basic training when I was twenty."

"Are you sure? I mean, from what you've told me, you Navy guys can really pound 'em back."

"You really have that little respect for me?"

"Has nothing to do with respect, Steve. Everyone sometimes has a bit too much to drink, takes a girl home -"

"Danny, as far as I knew at the time, my mother was killed by a drunk driver. No matter how much I liked to party, I never had so much to drink that I lost control or blacked out. You lose control, the better the chances are that you get stupid and get behind the wheel -"

"Okay, okay," Danny said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "It's just that she looked right at you when she talked about her kid's father, and you have to admit the resemblance is uncanny..."

"Here you go," Irene said, handing them each a new cup of piping hot tea. "I hope I didn't add too much sugar."

"No," Steve said, accepting the cup with a smile. "I'm sure it's fine. I like my tea sweet, anyway."

Irene's smile turned wistful. "So did your father."

Steve froze mid-sip and exchanged glances with Danny. His startled gaze returned to Irene. "Wait a minute, you knew my father?"

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Steve, Danny and Irene were once again seated in the living room but a whole new kind of tension filled the air, as Irene recounted her first meeting with Jack McGarrett. "Your dad popped by the local tavern one night, said he was in town on business. He seemed a little shell shocked when I first approached his table to take his order but he was sweet and kind. He had a wonderful smile, a lot like yours," Irene added, locking eyes with Steve. "Anyway, after he'd had a few drinks, he told me that I reminded him of someone." She obviously knew who that someone was because she offered up a sad smile for Steve. "He missed her so much, Steve. He just wanted to feel something again."

McGarrett knew she was looking for a response but he was still trying to process the fact that his dad had been romantically involved with a woman other than his mother. It just seemed preposterous to him, and yet... his eyes drifted over to the pictures of Jacob on the mantel. Realizing that Irene wasn't going to continue without some kind of reaction from him, and not really knowing if he even wanted her to continue, Steve nevertheless gave her a curt nod.

Before she was able to proceed with her story, however, Danny stopped her with a question that he hoped would take some of that 'kicked-puppy' look off his partner's face. "How long were the two of you... involved?" Even as the words left his mouth, he prayed his detective instincts would not betray him.

"Romantically?" Her eyes darted to Steve, "Just that night."

Danny and Steve each released a breath they hadn't known they'd been holding. After a brief moment, Steve shot a grateful glance Danny's way for asking the question Steve himself was too afraid to ask, then returned his attention to Irene.

"But you remained friends?"

"To a degree," she admitted. "I think it was too painful for him to be around me much. He felt like he had betrayed not only you and your sister, but also the memory of your mother. But, he knew Jacob was his son and he did his best to keep tabs on him. He even helped out financially until I met Scotty and told him the support was no longer necessary."

"Scotty," Danny asked.

"Yes. Scotty Beckett. A wonderful man. He treated Jacob like he was his own son, even legally adopted him when he was still just a toddler."

This time, when Steve and Danny looked to the mantel, their eyes sought out and found a wedding picture, easy to miss in the maze of Jacob's school pictures but still with its own honourable position in the display.

"Did my dad ever meet..." Steve attempted, stumbling slightly over his words, "I mean, does Jacob know..." The SEAL was having a hard time formulating the words in a way that wouldn't make him sound like a jealous child.

Danny, of course, saved him. "Does Jacob know that Jack McGarrett was his biological father? Did they ever meet?"

"No," Irene admitted. "They never met and I never told Jacob the truth. I was going to tell him. So many times, I was going to tell him. But the time just never seemed right. Then Scotty was deployed to Iraq."

"Is that where he is now," Steve asked, curiosity piqued once again.

Irene's mood changed to one of sadness and regret. "Scotty was killed in action three weeks ago."

Both Five-0 agents were stunned to silence. When she'd said that Jacob lost his father recently and then made the revelation that Jack was the boy's biological father, they had assumed she had been speaking of his death. But, Steve now realized, how could Jacob be mourning the father he'd never known existed?

"Jacob is having a hard enough time dealing with Scotty's death, if I tell him now that Scotty wasn't his real father, I'm afraid that would just break his heart even more than it already has been..." Her voice trailed off as she saw movement from the corner of her eye.

There, standing in the entryway with an oblivious Officer Pete stepping in behind him, was a fourteen year old boy with a black eye and a split lip, most likely from one of the school fights Irene had mentioned him having a penchant for. The markings on his face were overshadowed by the pain in his eyes, however. The kid looked like he'd just had his heart and soul ripped right out of him. Didn't have to be a detective to know that he had heard the tail end of the conversation loud and clear.

"Jacob," Irene said, rising from the couch. Her gaze darted to the clock on the wall, surprised that the afternoon had gone by so fast.

"All this time," he said. "You lied to me all this time?"

"No, Jake, it wasn't like that," she insisted, taking a step toward him.

"Stay away from me!"

"Jacob, please, listen - "

"I hate you," he yelled. "I hate you!" Without another word, angry or otherwise, the boy ran out of the house, down the steps and across the lawn.

Sensing that this wasn't over yet, that Hesse may still have plans for the boy, Steve took off after him, leaving Danny to stop a devastated Irene from following. He had a pretty good idea why McGarrett had gone after Jacob and logic dictated that Irene would be less of a target if she remained inside the house.

"Better to let him vent off a little steam," he suggested.

At first, it seemed as though Irene would ignore his advice and run after her boy, anyway. Instead, she sat heavily on the couch and placed her head in her hands. For long moments, she simply stared at the floor.

"You know," Danny began, placing a gentle hand on the woman's shoulder, "kids say stuff they don't mean, all the time. Especially when they're angry. He'll get over it."

Irene patted his hand with one of her own and gave him a sad smile. "I know he didn't mean what he said, Detective. Unfortunately, that knowledge does nothing to make the words easier to hear."

"It never does," Danny agreed.

"Do you have children, Detective Williams?"

"If I can call you Irene, you can call me Danny. Deal? And, yes, I have a little girl. She's eight."

"That's a good age. Children still have their innocence at that age. But, when they get older, they tend to befriend the wrong types of people, and those people tear their innocence away, force them to grow up faster than they should have to."

"Who has Jacob become friends with, Irene?"

Instead of answering, Irene stared out the window. Danny followed her gaze and saw Steve out on the street trying to talk some sense into a still angry teen. He ran a hand through his hair, then turned back to Irene. Seeing that this was a conversation to be had at a later date, he said, "I should probably get out there. Steve doesn't have a whole lot of experience with kids."

She chuckled dryly. "I'm not sure having experience makes all that much of a difference in the grand scheme of things. Some new and uncharted territory always manages to pop up."

"I hear that," Danny laughed, heading for the door. "You wait here, okay? Let the kid take some of his frustration out on us, instead, then we'll bring him back inside."

Reluctantly, she conceded. As he passed Pete, Danny whispered, "Keep an eye on her, Pete. Make sure she stays inside this house."

Pete nodded his understanding, "You know, I always got your back, Danny. Remember Waimea Bay?"

"You promised never to mention that again," the detective chided. Then, shaking his head at Pete's nonchalant shrug, Danny stepped outside to join Steve in his 'negotiations'.

H50H50H50

As he made his way across the lawn, Danny couldn't help but grin. Steve was still out on the street, blocking Jacob's path while trying not to _look_ like he was blocking Jacob's path. Huh. Maybe the guy knew more about kids than Danny had given him credit for.

H50H50H50

"Just, please, come inside so we can discuss this," Steve said, forcing himself not to just throw the kid over his shoulder and carry him back into the house. That wouldn't accomplish much. Though, at this point, it would feel pretty darn good. This kid was a real piece of work. Stubborn as... Steve grinned... stubborn as a McGarrett. The grin didn't last long, however - Steve still wasn't completely comfortable with the idea that his father had had a kid with someone other than his mom.

"Who are you, anyway?" The kid's words wheedled their way through Steve's thoughts and brought him back to the present. _One issue at a time, McGarrett. _

"I'm, uh..." _your brother? _"I'm a friend of your mom's. And she's really worried about you."

"Yeah, whatever. She shouldn't have lied to me," Jacob said bitterly, making a move to brush past McGarrett, who, in turn, unobtrusively blocked the kid's path in a very SEAL-like manner.

"Come on inside, kid. It would mean a lot to your mom."

"You think I care what she wants, right now?" At that moment, he glanced past Steve, saw the other, shorter guy heading towards them. _Great, now I'll have two jerks to deal with... and, dude, what's with the tie? _His thoughts were interrupted when he saw his mom, standing just inside the door, watching him. The fact that he wanted nothing more than to run to her. to forgive her, just made him that much angrier. How could she have done this to him? He trusted her! Then he saw the anguish on her face... okay, he didn't so much see it as he _felt _it. "Fine," he muttered. "I'll go inside." He took a step toward the house...

BOOM!

TBC

_A/N Okay. Even **I** thought this was a very cruel cliffie... Two in a row? Seriously? But the final scene of this chapter is the scene I pictured in my head when I first decided to write this sequel, and I always pictured it as the end of a chapter, hence this installment being a bit shorter than the previous two chapters. Sorry. And an extra special apology for this cliffhanger goes out to PureHalo. _Forgive?_ Question now is... will y'all come back for more? *mischievous grin* ~Kelcor_


	4. Chapter 4

Instantaneously, Steve's instincts kicked in! He yanked Jacob down to the ground with him, curling his own body around the boy's to offer as much protection from the blast as he possibly could. A few seconds later, he turned to look back at the burning house. "Danny," he choked.

Without a second's hesitation, he raced toward the inferno, yelling back to Jacob, "Don't move!" As he reached the curb, Steve could already feel the intense heat from the flames but continued a few steps onto the lawn. "Danny! Danny!" Just when he was about to dart into the house, regardless of the danger to himself, he heard it. The voice was weak, not much more than a whisper, but there.

"Steve..."

Sensing the owner of the voice was nearby, McGarrett frantically scanned the lawn around him. There, amidst the smoke and ash, was his partner, his friend, laying on the charred grass, surrounded by debris. Steve rushed to his side and crashed to his knees. "Danny! Thank God! Are you okay?"

"'think so."

"Okay, don't move," Steve ordered as he gently felt for contusions on the back of Danny's skull. His hand came back with blood on it and he gently turned his partner's head to the side to get a better look. "I don't think it's serious," he muttered, almost to himself. "But it may need stitches."

"Wonderful," Danny groused, punctuating the word with a smoke-induced cough.

Steve tore off part of his shirt, wadded it up into something that resembled a bandage and placed it on the wound, eliciting a groan from his partner. "Hold this here," Steve told him. Once Danny complied, Steve moved on to examining his arms and legs, ribs, ensuring there were no broken bones. He sighed with relief when his search came up empty. "I think you're gonna be all right, partner."

"Steve!"

Danny said his name with such urgency, Steve was sure he'd missed a serious injury. His eyes widened with concern, "What? What is it?"

Breaking into a coughing fit, Danny could only point behind McGarrett, toward the house. Steve spun around just in time to see Jacob running toward the blaze, screaming for his mother.

Jumping to his feet, Steve chased after the teen and tackled him to the ground. Jacob struggled beneath him, his desperation to get to his mother almost winning out over Steve's larger body mass. Finally, Steve hauled the kid to his feet and captured him in a bear hug from behind, lifting his feet off the ground for the brief moments it took to force him back to the street where Danny was now leaning against the car, cell phone held up to one ear, while still applying pressure to the wound on the other side of his head, as instructed.

"Let me go," Jacob screamed. "Get off me! Mom! MOM!"

Steve turned him away from the fiery inferno, gripped the front of the kid's shirt in his fists and gave him a little shake to get his attention. "It's too late," he yelled over the roar of the flames. "She's gone!"

"No!" Jacob yanked himself out of Steve's hold, and turned to run back to the house to save his mother but Steve caught him around the waist, spun him around again and pulled him against his chest. Wrapping his arms around the teen once again, Steve withstood the fists pounding against his back, the frenzied struggles, even the colourful curses said with venom and hatred, and just held on until Jacob's strength depleted and he sagged against him, shaking with a rare combination of exhaustion and adrenaline and shock.

He shared a look with Danny, whose heart was breaking for the now orphaned Jacob completely enveloped within Steve's arms.

H50H50H50

At the hospital, Steve stood inside the curtained off area as the resident psychiatrist did his best to talk to an eerily quiet Jacob. McGarrett was worried about Danny, of course, but his partner was an adult who had a minor contusion on the back of his skull. This was a teenager who had recently lost the man who, for all intents and purposes, had been his father. And, as if that wasn't enough, was forced to witness the brutal murder of his mother. Steve knew how difficult and painful it was for him and his dad when they received word of his own mother's _accident_. To be right there, though? To have it happen right in front of his face? Steve couldn't even begin to imagine what this kid must be going through.

The fire investigators and forensic engineers were still examining the house, looking for the cause of the blast to determine whether or not it was an accident, but Steve _knew _this was no accident. No. This had Victor Hesse written all over it. And, this time, Hesse would not get away with it. Not if Steve had anything to say about it. And he did. He had _a lot_ to say about it.

Forcing his attention back to the boy a few feet away from him, Steve couldn't help but see a little of himself in the kid - which brought to mind the fact that Jacob was his half brother. McGarrett still wasn't sure how he felt about that. Having a little brother could be cool, of course. But the thought of his dad having another kid with someone other than his mother just seemed... wrong.

The doctor motioned for Steve to step outside with him. Once on the other side of the curtain, Steve whispered, "So, how is he, doc?"

"His mother was really blown up right in front of him?"

McGarrett glanced toward the curtain, half expecting to see a grief-stricken face staring back at him. But, apparently, the boy wasn't eaves dropping. "Yeah," Steve whispered. "Yeah, she was."

"That's horrible. Absolutely horrible."

Danny joined them from another curtained off area. Steve raised one eyebrow in silent query. "I'll live," Danny told him. "How's Jacob?"

"I'm still waiting for that verdict myself," Steve replied, eyeing the doctor with trepidation.

"Well," the doctor began, "he seems to be suffering from a case of PTSD. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is caused by - "

"Yeah, doc, I know what causes PTSD."

"Of course, you do," the doctor said, eyeing McGarrett with more sympathy than the Lieutenant Commander was comfortable with. Sensing Steve's discomfort, Danny cleared his throat, urging the doctor to return his attention to the teen in his care. "You'll need to keep a close eye on him," the doctor continued. "Right now, he's blocking everything out. But, eventually, he'll have to grieve, his mind and body will insist on it, and when he does, he will need somebody to help him through it. He is just a boy, after all."

"Right. Okay." Processing everything in his usual SEAL-fashion, Steve stepped back into the curtained off area without another word.

When Danny made a move to join him, however, the doctor grabbed his arm and pulled him back a couple steps. "I get the feeling that the boy is not the only one who needs to grieve about something."

"You have no idea, doc," Danny admitted with a humourless chuckle.

"May I offer a piece of advice?"

Danny didn't say anything but he didn't walk away, either, giving the doctor silent permission to continue.

"Sometimes, with men such as Lieutenant Commander McGarrett, they heal better when helping others to heal."

"What are you saying, doc?"

"I'm saying, if you want your friend to heal, do your best to ensure that _he _is the one who is there when Jacob's subconscious forces him to grieve the loss of his mother. In fact, I suspect he hasn't dealt with his father's death, either."

H50H50H50

Not wanting Jacob to have to contend with a state care facility on top of everything else, Steve and Danny decided to take him back to headquarters with them, where they could figure out the next best course of action. While Steve got the kid situated in his office with a game of solitaire, Danny took the opportunity to discuss the doctor's words with Kono and Chin.

A few minutes later, Steve joined them at the viewing console. "Any progress with the type of explosives used?"

"All they've figured out so far is that it was remotely detonated," Chin offered.

"How's the kid doing," Danny asked.

"As well as can be expected, I guess. Any luck locating my sister?"

"She's in a small town in Indonesia, helping with the relief efforts," Kono revealed. "No cell phone access."

"What about a satellite phone," Steve asked. "Surely they have some way to contact authorities or health care professionals in case of an emergency."

"No satellite phone, either" Chin said. "Place is completely old school."

Steve brought one hand up to squeeze the bridge of his nose, attempting to breathe through his frustration.

"So, what now," Danny inquired. "We send her a note on a carrier pigeon 'Beware of psychotic strangers with Irish accents'?"

Kono and Chin each cast a wary glance at their team leader. Being the skilled investigator that he is, Danny caught both the look and the reason for it. "Sorry, Steve," he said. "I'm just - "

"Frustrated," McGarrett finished for him, taking a deep breath and lowering his hand to make eye contact with his partner. "I know. Me, too." He placed both hands on the console and let his head drop, taking slow deep breaths as he attempted to organize his thoughts. "Okay. I'll fly out to Indonesia and find Mary, while you guys hold the fort here," he said, turning to leave.

"Whoa, there, Tiger," Danny protested, grasping Steve by the arm and guiding him into his office. "Let Kono and Chin go to Indonesia. Your skills are needed a little closer to home, don't you think?"

Steve followed Danny's line of sight to the young teenager in his own office across the hall. "Jacob will be fine with you three, Danny. Besides, you're always the first to tell me how horrible I am with children."

Danny's head pulled back in disbelief. "What? No. I said you are not _good _with children. There is a difference, Steven."

"It doesn't matter. My sister might be in danger."

"And your brother most definitely _is _in danger. He needs you, Steve. Not me, not Kono, not Chin. You. Kono already checked for other family members and there's no one. Except you."

"Danny..."

"Are you trying to tell me that you think that explosion was an accident?"

Steve sighed heavily and leaned against Danny's desk. "No. It was definitely Hesse."

"Right. And the fire investigators found evidence of a remote trigger. What does that tell you?"

"That he was there," Steve said, eyes widening with sudden realization.

"Exactly. He can't possibly have been here and in Indonesia at the same time. Hesse is good but he's not _that _good."

"Mary could be next," McGarrett exclaimed, making a move toward the door, only to be blocked by his partner. "What?"

"Why do you think he killed Irene and not Jacob? Out of the goodness of his heart?"

Steve took a moment to process that. "He wants Jacob alive, to use him against me somehow."

"Another gold star for the Super-SEAL!"

"Okay, you made your point. Jacob is in more immediate danger than Mary," Steve conceded as he headed for the door once again.

Danny followed and ran straight into McGarrett's back when the SEAL stopped suddenly. "Wanna give me some warning next time," the detective griped, rubbing his nose gingerly.

"Hesse let you live."

"Well, thank you for noticing," Danny joked, focus still on his nose, checking for blood.

"Who says he won't use _you _against me, too?"

"I say," Danny insisted. Seeing the sincerity in his partner's eyes, the detective added, "Look, I appreciate your concern, really I do, but I can take care of myself. I didn't get promoted up to detective because of my amazing good looks, you know."

Steve allowed his lips to quirk up into a smile, albeit a small one. "Yeah. That's for sure."

"Hey," Danny protested. "I'll have you know, the ladies can't keep their hands off me."

"Right," McGarrett sneered good naturedly. "They're just knocking down your door."

"Go," Danny said, motioning to the door. Once again, he followed his partner and, once again, he walked straight into his back. "Okay, now you're just doing it on purpose!"

Steve spun to face him, his piercing blue eyes seemed to see right into Danny's soul. "Pete was your friend."

Danny looked away, not really wanting his partner to see into his soul at that particular second. "Yeah. He was."

McGarrett placed a firm hand on Danny's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, man. I should've said something sooner."

Sensing that eye contact was important, uncomfortable or not, Danny met his partner's eyes and said sincerely. "It's okay, Steve. There's been a lot going on. It's all good."

"I'm just... I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted. Now, can we get past this touchy-feely moment and get back to work, please?"

"Okay," Steve agreed, with his second smile that day. They exited the office, this time with no accident that may have resulted in the necessity of a nose job for a certain detective. "Chin, Kono," Steve instructed. "Pack your bags, you're going to Indonesia."

TBC

_A/N See? No cliffie this time! Sorry for the delayed update. I received a plea to update my Three Rivers story and felt that, since it **had** been over a month, it deserved some lovin' too. Please leave a review? Thanks for reading. ~Kelcor_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N So sorry for taking so long to update. On the upside, this is the longest chapter yet. I hope that (maybe?) that makes up for the wait? I do, however, feel like I owe you all an explanation for the delay. I have been trying for months to get my short script finished and ready to go... it is currently headed into pre-production! Yay! Okay, enough of that... on with the story! I hope this chapter is worth the wait! *hopeful smile* ~Kelcor_

Steve unlocked and opened the door, then stepped aside to allow Danny and Jacob to precede him into the house. Jacob had yet to say anything, still hadn't shown any sign of grieving for his mother. The more he got to know him, the more Steve believed the kid was indeed his little brother. McGarrett men had a certain way of dealing with their grief, and Jacob certainly seemed to have inherited that trait. Despite his efforts not to, Steve found himself developing a fondness for the kid. However, that didn't mean he was completely on board with Danny's plan.

"Okay, Jacob, this is going to be your - " Steve cut himself off. Realizing suddenly how the word _home_ might be a little too painful for the teen right now, McGarrett quickly amended his statement. "You're going to stay here with me for a little while, okay?" He figured he wasn't going to get a response and was not disappointed. "Your room is upstairs," he quickly added. "Second door on the left."

Jacob took the bags of clothes they had purchased shortly after leaving Five-0 headquarters and made his way up the stairs, not happy, not upset, not... anything, as far as Steve and Danny could tell. McGarrett stalked into the living room, running both hands through his hair.

"I don't know, Danny. Man, I really don't know about this. You're a father, why don't you take him?"

"You know why, Steve. You can do this. You just need to give yourself a chance."

"You really believe that?"

Danny took a moment to ponder this question, then: "Yeah. Yeah, I do. I know you're going to make me regret saying this, but you are somehow able to do anything you set your mind to. You become ninja-SEAL at the drop of a hat, then turn around and transform into the six-million-dollar-man two seconds later. You can do this, Steve. My believing it is not the important thing, here. _You _have to believe it. Okay?"

Rendered speechless, Steve simply nodded his understanding.

"Good," Danny said. "My work here is done, then."

Steve grabbed his arm before he completely exited the house, a rarely seen look of panic in his eyes. Sighing, Danny patted his partner's hand.

"You have my number on speed dial, right?" A nod. "Okay, then. You can call me if there's ever a problem. Night or day, okay? And, you know what? I have Grace next weekend. Maybe we can all hang out? Have a barbecue or something? Go to a football game?" Another nod and, finally, the panic began to recede as Steve morphed back into his usual calm and collected self. "Good," Danny told him, then glanced down at Steve's hand still on his arm. "Can I leave now?"

Steve laughed. "Uh, yeah, sorry."

"No need to apologize. I felt the same way the first time Rachel left me alone with Grace. Only difference is, you don't have diapers to change, and you don't have to worry about tongues being inserted into electrical sockets."

Danny had made it half way down the sidewalk this time before Steve's voice stopped him. "Hey, Danno?"

With a roll of the eyes at the nickname Steve insisted on using, Danny turned back to face him, casting a heatless glare in his partner's direction. "Yes, Steven?"

"You believing in me? It's more important than you think."

Danny waited for the punch line, then, seeing the sincerity in the SEAL's eyes, he offered up a quick nod of his own, and made his way to his car once again - unable to stop the smile that slowly spread across his face.

H50H50H50

Steve McGarrett paced back and forth across his living room floor. It had been almost a week since Irene had been killed and there were still no solid leads on where Victor Hesse was hiding out. Steve had studied the file every night after Jacob had gone to bed. He had even, albeit reluctantly, left the boy in the capable hands of Kamekona for a few hours each day so that he and Danny could search the addresses of Hesse's known associates, because he certainly wasn't going to let his partner, who could very well be Hesse's next target, conduct the searches alone. Regardless, they had still come up with zilch.

Without warning, his rampaging thoughts were interrupted by a jaw cracking yawn. Juggling caring for his new little brother and searching for the man that was slowly but surely taking out each member of the McGarrett family had left Steve more than a little exhausted. Sleep deprivation was one of the many things a SEAL learned to deal with on a daily basis, but the emotional toll it was taking on him was a more subtle type of torture.

They had yet to locate Mary - Chin and Kono were in Indonesia now but the volunteer group Mary was with had finished with one village and had proceeded to the next. Unfortunately, his two Five-0 agents were unsure of which direction the group had moved in.

And Jacob? He'd barely eaten a thing since his mother's death. Not that Steve could blame him really, but he had to eat _something_! Regardless, no matter how many tasty morsels were placed in front of the kid, he wouldn't do much more than move the food around on the plate, lost in thought or, more likely, grief. He still had not uttered a single word or shed a single tear since losing his mother. It was true, these days, Steve had his emotions pretty much under control - except, of course, when he was under the influence of snake venom or pain medication, apparently. But this was a 14-year-old boy who had not only witnessed his mother's brutal murder, but had lost the man who had raised him as his own son just a few short weeks before. A man who, until recently, Jacob had thought truly _was _his father. And, to have that well-meaning falsity brought to light just moments prior to his mother's death couldn't be helping matters any, either.

Steve remembered doing the same thing, locking his pain deep inside, refusing to allow anyone to see the agony his mother's death had caused. He remembered being so determined to stay strong for his sister. He also remembered a night when his father had come into his room after one of his many nightmares and just held him. Despite Steve's violent struggles, his dad had refused to let him go until Steve had finally grieved for his mother... not even Mary knew about that night, and neither father nor son ever talked about it. In fact, even knowing that his father had acted purely out of love, the pride of a 16-year-old boy had Steve completely blocking the memory out, until a couple weeks ago when he'd woken up to find that Danny had done the same thing, forcing a heavily medicated Steve to grieve over the loss of his father, as well as the recently reopened wound of his mother's death, upon discovering that she was actually murdered, that the car accident wasn't an _accident, _after all. Once again, McGarrett felt the flush of embarrassment rise to his cheeks at the memory but, this time, he also felt his heart warm at the realization that his partner had cared about him enough to swallow his own pride and do exactly what Steve's dad had done all those years ago. If he was willing to accept his father's true motivation, then he should be able to do the same for his partner, right?

When another yawn had the top of his head threatening to separate itself from the bottom, Steve finally relented and headed upstairs to bed.

H50H50H50

_The room was dark and cold. He sat huddled in one corner, knees drawn up to his chest, forehead pressed against his knees. A noise forced his head up, his attention drawn to a flickering light far off in the distance. Even though a sense of dread formed in the pit of his stomach, he pulled himself to his feet and stepped towards the light. He wrapped his arms around himself for both warmth and comfort as the flickering increased in its intensity. He soon realized the source of the light was a fire, yet, oddly, he didn't feel any warmth as he approached it. Instead, he felt pinpricks of ice poking at his flesh. Still, against his better judgement, despite the terror gnawing at the back of his mind and fast breaking through to the forefront, he continued to close in on the flame, feeling drawn against his will. As he neared what had to be an apparition, a face formed amidst the yellow and orange and... blue? He leaned in for a closer look and suddenly stumbled back when he realised it was his mother, glaring out at him! Never in his life had she EVER looked at him like that! _

"_You told me that you hated me," she whispered. _

_Jacob shook his head in denial, tried to say that he didn't mean it but was somehow unable to find his voice._

"_It should have been you, Jacob. It should have been you!"_

_He tried again to say something but no sounds would come out. All he wanted to do was tell her how much he loved her. How much he missed her. How badly he wished that he had died right along with her. The one thing he knew he couldn't do is disagree with her. It really should have been him. He was nothing but a screw up. He saw it in his dad's eyes every time he failed to ace a test, every time he struck out at the softball game. Then he would see something altogether worse in his dad's eyes... the evenings following those failures... when his mom was at work..._

Jacob woke with a strangled cry. It took a moment for him to recognize his surroundings but before he could take comfort in the fact that it was all just a dream, his stomach lurched. His hand flew to his mouth as he surged out of bed and ran for the bathroom down the hall. He didn't even have time to turn on the light, could only pray that he didn't miss his target as he dropped to his knees on the floor and leaned over the toilet, both hands placed firmly on the rim to keep from falling over.

He belatedly realized that Commander McGarrett's bedroom was just one room away and mentally chastised himself for not completely shutting the door. As it was, the only reason the door was somewhat closed was because it had bounced off the wall behind it in his haste to get inside. He tried to keep the sound of his dry heaves to a minimum. The last thing he wanted was an angry Navy SEAL to come barging in on him while he was in this vulnerable of a position. True, he seemed nice enough but Jacob had learned the hard way that looks could be deceiving.

All hope of the Commander maybe sleeping through this whole ordeal vanished when Jacob heard a deep voice call his name from too close a proximity. On the upside, the tone of the voice wasn't angry. The guy almost sounded concerned. But Jacob knew that was impossible. The only person who ever truly cared about him had been his mother and she was...

Through the corner of his eye, he saw the door slowly push inward, a tall silhouette on the other side.

"Jacob? You okay, buddy?"

He wanted to tell the guy to beat it, that he was fine, that he didn't need anybody. But his only response was another gut wrenching dry heave and... a whimper? Seriously? Then he felt the Commander's hand on his back and another whimper forced its way out of his throat.

"Shhh. It's gonna be okay. It'll be over soon."

Jacob was mortified when he became aware of the hot tears streaming down his face. His arms began to shake with exertion and finally gave out on him but he didn't fall forward because, at the last second, a strong arm slipped around his waist and supported him. He wanted to push the arm away, to push the Commander away, but he just couldn't find the energy as his body continued to try to purge something that wasn't there. Every time he tried to eat, all he saw was his mom, serving up one of his favourite meals... like the roast he smelled simmering in the oven when he'd come home the other day, just before... before...

Once again, his body convulsed and nothing came up but bile. No matter how hard he tried to bite it back, another whimper escaped, as well. Suddenly, he felt a cool cloth wiping across his face, taking the tears and the sweat with it.

Several moments later, his stomach finally seemed to settle down and he fell backwards. He was astonished to find himself leaning back against the Commander's chest and tried to squirm away, but the arm across his stomach held him in place. "Just relax for a minute. You don't want it to start all over again, do you?"

Definitely not. So, Jacob took the Commander's advice and relaxed for a moment. When he found himself becoming too comfortable, too ready to trust this man who had jumped into his life just moments before his mother had... left... Jacob wriggled his way out of the older man's hold and forced himself to his feet.

H50H50H50

Steve could feel the heat emanating off the boy but knew he couldn't force him to stay still any longer. Well, he probably could, but that would just make matters worse because, truthfully, Steve saw a lot of himself in the kid. Jacob had to grieve, there was no doubt about that, and if the time came where Steve had to pull a lesson from his dad's book - or Danny's - then he would step up to the plate and do his best. But now was not that time.

He did his best to help a shaky Jacob back to his room but, when his every effort was rebuffed, Steve forced himself to simply watch as the boy stumbled down the hall, half hunched over, with one arm wrapped around his stomach. His heart ached for this kid who was trying so hard to be strong, to be resolute, under the worst possible circumstances. Steve understood Jacob's resolve, possibly even admired him for it, but he knew it wasn't healthy. Just like his dad had known it wasn't healthy for Steve 18 years ago.

H50H50H50

Steve wasn't too proud to admit when he was out of his element, and this was definitely one of those times. So, as soon as Jacob fell back to sleep, the SEAL pulled out his cell and called the best father he knew - Danny Williams.

He was greeted with a groggy _"Hello?" _

"Hey, Danny," Steve whispered into the phone, his eyes never leaving the young teen tossing and turning beneath the covers, a sheen of sweat covering his face. "Does that 'call anytime day or night' thing still apply?"

To his credit, Danny became instantly alert. _"What? What is it? What's wrong?"_

"It's Jacob. I woke up about an hour ago to the sound of him dry heaving in the bathroom."

"_He still hasn't eaten anything?"_

"Not a thing."

"_And did you try normal human food like I told you? Cuz, you know, real people don't eat tofu and wheat grass for breakfast."_

"It's not wheat grass, it's alfalfa sprouts, and, for your information, I gave him waffles, pancakes, hamburgers, fries, pie, even corn on the freakin' cob. He just won't eat it."

"_Okay, okay, calm down before they take the Jolly out of Jolly Green Giant. Does he have any other symptoms?"_

"He has a fever."

"_Didn't they give you medical training in SEAL school?"_

"Yes, they did, Danny, for adults. Not many 14-year-olds in the Navy."

"_Okay, point taken. Do you have any acetaminophen or Tylenol?"_

"I don't know. Maybe," Steve replied, already heading back to the bathroom.

"_If you do, you can give him some of that to get the fever down. Other than that, the main thing you need to do is make sure he doesn't get dehydrated. How high is his temperature?"_

"I'd say about 101 degrees."

"_You'd say? Did you use an actual thermometer? Or is that just an educated guess? Because just two or three degrees can mean the difference between keeping him comfortable at home and rushing him to the E.R."_

"Right, of course." With a sigh, Steve began rummaging through the med kit under the sink. He snatched up an unopened thermometer and a small canister of Tylenol, then filled a cup with water. It wasn't cold but it would have to do, for now. He took all the procured items back to Jacob's room.

"_You still there?"_

"Yeah, I'm still here. Just getting all the supplies you listed off, Mr. MD," he snarked, setting the water and the pill bottle on the nearby nightstand. Next, he glanced quickly at the directions, then tore open the thermometer's packaging. He hesitated for a brief second, trying to figure out how to get Jacob's temperature while he was sleeping, then decided the best thing to do would be to wake the kid up. He needed to get some of the water and Tylenol into him, anyway. "Hey, Danny? I need to put the phone down for a minute. I'm going to put you on speaker, okay?"

"_Yeah, sure, do what you gotta do."_

After making the necessary selections on the screen, Steve set the phone down next to the cup of water, then gently shook Jacob in an attempt to wake him. He was rewarded with two tiny slits of blue staring up at him. "Hey, Jacob. You're running a fever. I need to take your temperature, then you need to take a bit of medicine for me, okay?"

The kid didn't agree but he didn't argue, either. A 14-year-old who didn't argue about taking medicine was definitely an incoherent one. Steve tried to get him into a sitting position but the kid was like freakin' Gumby, slipping and falling all over the place. Not seeing any other option, Steve sat behind him for the second time that night and leaned him back against his chest. "Just a second, Danny," he called toward the phone. Jacob was completely pliable in Steve's hands, which did not offer any reassurance to the SEAL whatsoever.

He slipped the thermometer between Jacob's lips and under his tongue, then gently held his mouth closed until he heard the telltale beep thirty seconds later. He looked at the reading. "Temperature's 102," he told Danny.

"_Okay, no cause for alarm... yet. If it sneaks up any higher than 102.2, though, get him to the hospital. Just to be safe."_

"Are you sure, Danny? He's really burnin' up, man."

"_Look, we both know, I'm not a doctor. But I have dealt with fevers before and Grace's physician told me that 102.2 is the bridge to be crossed, so to speak, before being serious enough for a hospital visit. Just try to get some acetaminophen in him, and lots of fluids. The fever will most likely go down in a few hours but you'll have to keep a close eye on him until then, Steve." Danny paused for a moment, then: "Do you need me to come over? Help out a bit?"_

McGarrett was tempted to take Danny up on his offer but his partner had been getting as little sleep as Steve himself had. At least one of them should be fully rested when the time came to slap the cuffs on Victor Hesse. Besides, he could do this. He was a SEAL, for pity sake. Once a SEAL, always a SEAL.

"Nah, Danny. Thanks, but I got this."

"_Okay. Call me if anything changes, though. Or if you change your mind."_

"I will, Danny. Thanks again, man."

"_No problem. What are partners for?"_

With that, Danny disconnected the call.

Steve reached over and grabbed the Tylenol. He shook a caplet into his palm, then used his cell phone to crush it on the top of the nightstand. He quickly brushed the powder into the cup of water, swirled it around with his finger, and nudged Jacob's mouth open once again. "C'mon, buddy, time to get this fever down, whaddya say?" He tipped the cup against the teen's lips, counting on pure instinct for the kid to swallow what went into his mouth. The kid made a face but swallowed the medicine, anyway. "I know it tastes awful but it's the only way to get your fever down while you're this out of it." Once the cup was empty, Steve made a move to get up to grab a chair from downstairs, intending to sit by Jacob's bedside all night long if he had to. Then Jacob turned on his side and grabbed a fistful of Steve's shirt. When the SEAL tried to extricate said hand, a soft whimper from the kid stopped him.

With a long sigh, Steve leaned back against the headboard, arms full of feverish 14-year-old, and tried to get semi-comfortable. This was going to be a long night.

H50H50H50

Steve was startled awake by a vicious shaking. He looked down and was horrified to see Jacob was convulsing in his arms. Seizure. Crap. That just couldn't be a good thing. McGarrett scrambled off the bed, slipped the cell phone into his pocket, and scooped the kid into his arms. Doing his best to keep Jacob from convulsing right out of his grasp, Steve rushed him down the stairs and out to the truck.

TBC

_A/N Reviews are like chocolate pie for me - I am totally addicted and can't get enough! Favourites and Alerts are the milk and whip cream that go so well with the pie! :o) And special PM's? Those are definitely the lovely, delicious sprinkles that top it all off! LoL ~Kelcor_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N Sorry for the delay. I hope this lives up to expectations. Next chapter almost completed as I'm typing this. Was actually going to be all one chapter but I wanted to get something up here for you today. Please let me know what you think? Thanks so much for your patience and for sticking with me through this story! ~Kelcor_

Steve had no idea how long he had been in the Emergency Room waiting area before finally forcing himself to sit down in one of the hard backed chairs but it did nothing to calm his racing mind. Elbows resting on his knees, face buried in his hands, he didn't even realize he had company until the shiny loafers came into view. He looked up and took in the sight of Danny Williams with a large paper bag in one hand. His eyes were full of both sympathy and reprimand. Steve looked at his watch, then returned his attention to his partner.

"Danny? It's 6am. What are you doing here?"

"I told you to call me if anything happened," the detective admonished, albeit with an unusually gentle tone.

"But, how did you even know -?

Danny scoffed at Steve's look of disbelief. "I am a detective, you know." When the question remained on McGarrett's face, Danny let out a resigned sigh and eased himself down into the seat next to his partner. "I couldn't get back to sleep anyway, so I decided to bring breakfast over to you and Jacob," he explained, holding the paper bag up as proof. "The door to your house was left open and neither you or the kid were there. Despite my initial instinct to put out an APB, there were no signs of a struggle and I knew Super-SEAL-Extraordinaire would not be taken down without a fight. The hospital was the only other logical explanation."

Steve's lips quirked in amusement. "Of course." Then: "Thanks, Danny."

A doctor in his mid-fifties entered the waiting room, clipboard in hand. His eyes quickly fell on the sole occupants of the room. "Are you relatives of Jacob Beckett?"

The two Five-0 agents rose to their feet and strode in unison toward the doctor. "Yeah," Steve told him. "I'm his... legal guardian. What's wrong with him?"

The doctor referred back to his clipboard for a moment, then made eye contact with each Steve and Danny in turn. "I haven't been able to find a _physical _reason for his fever but I read in his file that this boy suffered a severe loss recently?"

"That's right," Steve confirmed. "He lost his mom about a week ago in an explosion. His, uh, dad died in the war a few weeks ago."

"Well, it's not uncommon for grief to manifest itself as a physical illness. Nevertheless, we have his fever under control. It's still higher than I would like but he's not in any immediate danger. However..."

McGarrett's relief at the doctor's words was quickly replaced with a sense of foreboding. He was about to urge the doctor to continue but his partner beat him to it, in true Danny fashion.

"Out with it, doc."

Steve smiled despite the situation. For once, he was glad Danny's internal edit control was constantly malfunctioning. However, the doctor's next bit of information completely wiped the smile off his face.

"We performed several different tests to determine the cause of Jacob's fever, including X-Rays." The doctor paused again, as if for dramatic effect. Just when Steve thought he would have to grab the doctor and shake the information out of him, he spoke again... and Steve almost wished the man would take the words back. "The X-Rays show evidence of abuse. Long term abuse."

"How long term," Steve bit out.

"I'd have to say, several years. Broken bones. Cracked ribs. All appear to have healed on their own. There is nothing showing in his file of previous hospital visits, which is why Child Protective Services were never notified. I'll check with other hospitals in the area but I'm pretty sure they'll tell me the same thing. This boy was never treated for his injuries."

Steve could feel his blood pressure rising and one look told him the same was true for his partner.

"The oldest injury seems to have taken place close to a year ago," the doctor continued.

H50H50H50H50

Having done all he could for the time being, the doctor agreed to send Jacob home with Steve, with strict instructions to bring him back in if the fever spiked again.

Now, the two sat in silence, the roar of the truck's engine the only sound permeating the air for the entire drive back to the McGarrett home. Jacob still looked like crap and, although the meds that had been pumped into the kid had brought the fever down, it had not eliminated it completely. So, Steve was able to control his urge to grill the kid about who had beaten him. But that control was fading with each passing moment. It wasn't like they didn't know who the culprit was - or had been, given the circumstances. If the creep had still been alive, Steve may have killed the guy himself! The doctor said this abuse had been going on for years. _Years!_

At first, Steve had suspected Irene. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd been misled by a pretty smile. But, no. It just didn't fit. Not only did she not fit the bill for a child abuser, even upon further scrutiny, but Jacob hadn't suffered any broken bones in nearly a year. Rarely, did an abuser decide to give his/her victim any reprieve from beatings, let alone for ten months. And, lo' and behold, that is exactly the length of time Jacob's step-dad had been fighting overseas. With that thought, Steve got a bitter taste in his mouth. He wasn't naive enough to believe that every single soldier was a good man or woman at home. But he liked to think something like this would be a rare occurrence. After all, soldiers were proud and honourable men and women. And what honour came with beating a small child? No. Steve knew in his heart that a large majority of the people who were fighting for peace and freedom would be appalled to know that one of their own had done this. Some would probably even take matters into their own hands to bring an end to the abuse. Steve, without a doubt, would be one of those people. He was almost disappointed to know that he wouldn't be able to give _Scotty _a taste of his own medicine - Super-SEAL style.

McGarrett smiled to himself when he pictured Danny's reaction to that last thought.

Movement to his left, brought his attention back to the lump in the passenger seat. As he pulled into his driveway, Steve took advantage of the boy's drugged up condition to size the kid up without the chance of snarky comments. He'd already noticed Jacob was small for his age. Scrawny, even. But there was also a slight slouch to the kid's shoulders, which spoke of insecurities, something Steve had originally thought were brought on by the usual teenage plights but now knew different. At that thought, he felt his blood reach the boiling point, once again.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," was mumbled from the far corner of the seat.

Steve chuckled. No snarky comments? He really should've known better.

H50H50H50

Once again, Jacob had become surly and stubborn. Both of which, Steve could understand. But being forced to watch as the kid slowly made his way up the stairs, pausing to catch his breath after every two steps, was pure torture for the SEAL. No doubt, Danny would try to make some kind of comparison here between Steve and his newly found little brother, something about how they both carried a huge 'obstinate-gene'. But Steve was an adult, a well-trained SEAL, with years of practice at being fiercely independent. A kid Jacob's age should never have been faced with situations to create that same independence. Not yet.

About half way up, Jacob suddenly swayed on his feet. Steve grabbed the kid by the shoulders just in time to keep him from tumbling back down the steps. He looked down at the pale face, the squeezed shut eyes, and knew the kid wasn't going to make it another step... even if Jacob refused to face that fact himself. With a mumbled, "I gotcha", Steve leaned down and scooped the teen up into his arms for the second time in twelve hours. Ignoring the mortified protests and exhausted squirming, he carried his charge the rest of the way up the stairs and down the hall to the guest bedroom, then deposited him gently onto the bed.

Jacob instantly turned away from him, but not before Steve saw the flush of embarrassment on the too young face. Deciding to respect the kid's need for privacy, McGarrett pulled the covers up over him and turned to leave. Before switching out the light, he told him, "Try to get some sleep, buddy. I'll just be downstairs."

H50H50H50

The next couple days passed without incident. Jacob's condition improved but he still seemed listless, and certainly wasn't going to be talking to Steve again anytime soon. Not that he had said all that much to him before the incident of being carried like a sick child to his room. But what the kid refused to understand was the fact that he _was _a sick child! And Steve's responsibility, to boot. So, although he regretted embarrassing the kid, McGarrett couldn't bring himself to accept that he had been wrong to do it.

This morning, while Jacob was still sleeping, Steve took advantage of the opportunity to relax with a cup of coffee and check in with Danny at HQ.

"Hey, D," Steve greeted. "Any progress in the search for Hesse?"

"Actually, yeah - "

"Ahh! Son of a - "

"What? What happened?"

"Nothing," Steve grunted in response. "I was just pouring myself a cup of coffee and spilled it all over my hand and the counter."

"Didn't they teach you hand to eye coordination in SEAL school?"

"Funny, Danno. I'm going to put you on speaker for a second, all right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Do what you gotta do."

Steve pressed the 'speaker' icon on the screen of his i-Phone, then grabbed a towel from a nearby drawer. "So, what did you find?"

As McGarrett went about cleaning the coffee off the counter top and, as it turned out, the floor, Danny rattled off an address.

"Yeah," Steve said, absently, "I know that area. It's up at the north end of the island, right?"

"Internet tells me it's right on the northern tip, actually."

Steve tossed the sopping wet towel into the laundry room. "Okay, so when do we head out?"

"Easy, there, cowboy! Our intel tells us that he has lots of friends up their with him. Big time criminal types."

"So, we go in nice and quiet, then - " A noise from the front of the house caught Steve's attention. "Hey, Danny," he whispered, "hang on a second, will you?"

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"I heard something coming from the front yard."

"Is it Hesse?"

"I don't know yet," Steve told him, frustration seeping into his voice as he grabbed his gun off the table. "I'm not psychic. I have to check it out first."

"Well, you've got pretty much everything else on that resume of yours. How am I to know 'Crystal Ball Aficionado' isn't part of that elaborate work history of yours?"

"Would you please be quiet? I'd kinda like the element of surprise here."

"Fine. Shutting up."

Steve kept his back pressed against the wall as he made his way to the front of the house. His eyes darted to the stairwell. He was undeniably concerned about Jacob but he knew he had to make sure their was no one down here first. Otherwise, any potential threat could simply attack him from behind on his way up the stairs, and what good would he be to the kid then?

So, he ignored the second level for the time being and stepped up to the front door. It was closed but unlocked. Steve was positive he had locked it that night and he hadn't been out yet this morning. He kicked himself mentally for turning off the alarm system when he had come downstairs an hour or so ago, figuring it was only really needed when they were sleeping. Now, someone may have gotten into the house and up the stairs to Jacob without Steve even knowing until it was too late.

He noticed the keys to his truck were missing from the small hook on the wall. Perplexed, Steve checked his pockets even as he peeked out the picture window into the front yard and driveway.

All concern about someone sneaking up on a vulnerable, sleeping Jacob disappeared completely. Because Jacob was sitting behind the wheel of Steve's truck, engine running!

Quickly slipping his gun beneath his waistband at the small of his back, Steve tore open the door and ran into the yard. "Jacob! Stop!"

Jacob turned at the sound of his voice and Steve saw the firm determination in the kid's eyes before he stepped on the gas and peeled out of the driveway. He could hear Danny's voice emanating from the phone but was too shocked to respond right away. All he found himself able to do was stare in disbelief as his truck thundered down the road at top speed.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Steve paced back and forth in his front yard, waiting for Danny to arrive, his imagination telling all sorts of wonderful stories of what could be happening to Jacob right now. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that the kid had overheard his conversation with Danny and was on his way to disperse his own form of justice on the one and only Victor Hesse. The trouble with that plan was obvious to everyone involved - everyone except for Jacob, apparently.

Jacob Beckett was a sick 14 year old who had barely eaten anything in a week, and Hesse just happened to be a heartless killer who wouldn't think twice about killing Jacob, especially knowing how much that one single act would hurt McGarrett.

With that thought, Steve considered, not for the first time, that he might be better off chasing after the kid on foot. Where the heck was Danny? As if on cue, Steve caught sight of Danny's Camaro in the distance, emergency lights flashing to safely bypass any traffic along the way.

The car barely came to a complete stop and Steve was opening the door and hopping into the passenger seat. Not at all comfortable with not being the one behind the wheel, Steve kept his mouth shut, enduring his internal torture in silence. Then he thought about Jacob, headed into who knew what kind of dangerous situation, and the torture took on a whole different spectrum for the SEAL. He couldn't remember being so worried about someone, not since his dad had sent him to one part of the country and his sister to another, to face boys and bullies, not to mention a life without their mother, all on her own, without her big brother to protect her. Steve sometimes wondered if she had been nearly as uncomfortable with that idea as he had. In truth, she had probably even relished the idea of freedom from both of the McGarrett men.

"We'll get there before anything happens," Danny assured him, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yeah," Steve said, though not with nearly as much conviction because for the first time in a very long time Steve McGarrett was scared.

H50H50H50

When Jacob had heard that address, had heard that that was where the man who had killed his mother was hiding out, he'd lost all sense of logic and reason. He snatched Commander McGarrett's car keys off the hook in the hall and dashed out the door. After starting the engine and pulling the driver's seat as far forward as it would go, his first task had been to enter the address into the truck's GPS device. He had seen his mother use it enough times, had even entered in an address or two himself so she could keep an eye on the road, so he was well versed on its use. He heard a noise coming from the house and turned to see the Commander charging out the door, heading straight for the truck. Jacob knew that if McGarrett managed to get to him in time, he would lose the only chance he had to get vengeance on the monster that had killed his mom. So, with that in mind, Jacob ignored Commander McGarrett and tore out of the driveway and down the street.

To be honest, he did feel a little bit of regret in betraying McGarrett's trust. The man had opened his home to him, had done his best to take care of him. But, Jacob knew, the Commander could never understand his need for justice. Besides, the man was just his protector. As soon as this case was over and done with, Jacob would be on his own. And, if he was going to survive, he had to know that this Hesse character was gone for good. McGarrett and his team had done their best to hide it but Jacob wasn't stupid, he knew that Hesse was now gunning for him. So, it wasn't _just _revenge, it was self preservation. He had every right to protect himself, right? Sort of like self defense before the fact. Any judge would understand that... right?

But any form of punishment in the future didn't matter, anyway. Because, deep down, Jacob knew the true reason why he was going after Hesse. The memory of his mother standing in the doorway of their house one second, and engulfed in flames the next, still brought tears to his eyes. That memory was followed quickly by Commander McGarrett stopping him from saving her, holding him like some kind of child! That got Jacob's blood boiling in a whole other way, and any regret he felt about leaving the Commander disappeared. Jacob wasn't your average 14 year old. He'd grown up faster than his friends at school. Who else was going to protect his mom from Scotty? In a way, Scotty had done him a favour, forcing him to grow up so fast. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to do this. Not to mention the fact that he was going to have to look after himself after this was done. It'd be scary but he could do it. What he lacked in brawn, he made up for in brains. Most of the bullies at school were probably _still_ scratching their heads, trying to figure out the meanings to the names Jacob had called them while he was getting pummelled on the school grounds.

A glance at the map on the GPS screen told him that he was close to his destination. He had seen enough movies to know that you can't just drive into the enemy camp and expect to accomplish the tasks you had set out to do.

So, he pulled the truck over to the side of the road, driving far enough into the brush to ensure complete concealment, then began to dig through McGarrett's belongings - under the seats, in the compartment _between_ the seats. No weapons. He slammed the steering wheel with the palms of his hands. The Commander had seemed like a sort of action hero, Jacob had been sure that the man would have an arsenal of some sort hidden in his vehicle. _Hidden._ Jacob's eyes fell on the glove compartment. He reached over and yanked up on the handle. Locked. He pulled the keys out of the ignition and found the smallest one on the ring. With a silent prayer, he leaned over and placed it into the keyhole and turned... and the door popped open, revealing a GLOCK Gen4 nestled between the folds of a map of Oahu. Next to the map was a compass.

Huh. He was starting to like this McGarrett character more and more.

H50H50H50

Jacob made his way across the rough terrain, map in hand. The hot sun did nothing to help with his annoying fever but Jacob didn't care. As much as he had despised (and feared) Scotty, a small part of him had always admired him for his choice to join the Army and fight for his country. Jacob himself wanted to be an Army Ranger. Chances were slim, given his size, but he still researched Army Rangers as often as he possibly could. And an Army Ranger wouldn't let a stupid fever stop him from completing his mission, so neither would Jacob.

Finally, he came to the tree line that, according to the map, bordered the facility where Hesse was hiding. He tucked the pistol beneath his waistband at the small of his back. Then, putting into action one of the manoeuvres he had seen in his various books and DVD tutorials, Jacob got down on his stomach and used his elbows to pull himself through the damp brush, keeping his head low and periodically referring to his map and compass to ensure he was still headed in the right direction. He didn't have time to waste going in circles, his energy was fading fast. He used the back of one hand to wipe away the sweat that was dripping into his eyes, then stopped a moment to review the map once again... and to, hopefully, stop his heart from pounding so hard in his chest, and thwart the nausea that was squirming around in his stomach. He took several slow deep breaths, then continued on towards the compound and the subject of his vengeance.

H50H50H50

Danny shouldn't have been surprised when Steve's eagle eye caught sight of the tail end of his truck sticking out of a cluster of bushes and trees off to their right. According to the SEAL, a glint of sunlight reflecting off one fender had alerted him to the vehicle's presence. Danny suspected that his partner had surreptitiously checked his crystal ball when Danny hadn't been looking.

Regardless, they were that much closer to catching up with this kid who, in Danny's humble opinion, had more in common with his big brother than said big brother was willing to admit.

Thanks to a recent rainfall, they found the kid's trail quite easily. As they stepped into the brush to follow, Danny couldn't help but eye his partner with concern. He felt he had reason to be more than a little worried for the simple fact that the man had been more than willing, on several occasions, to put his life at risk to rescue a complete stranger. What was he going to do to save his own little brother?

H50H50H50

As the two Five-0 agents approached the warehouse, they had to dispense with one bad guy after another. Knocking them out, gagging them, zip-tying their wrists and ankles, and leaving them behind to be dealt with later. Danny had used his set of cuffs on the first but they had decided to save Steve's cuffs for Hesse.

Once they had successfully made it through the armed guards surrounding the facility, the two advanced on the only door that had a vehicle parked directly in front of it. Voices emanated from inside. One was Hesse, taunting in his usual fashion. The other was too quiet to determine but Steve was pretty sure it belonged to a certain 14 year old boy who was, clearly, trying to give the SEAL a coronary.

With stealth as their main priority, Steve and Danny made their way inside what appeared to be yet another abandoned fish plant. At that moment, Steve decided he was going to ask Hesse what the heck his obsession was with fish plants.

A few yards away, Steve was able to make out four profiles. Two tall and beefy, the third equally as tall but more lanky - definitely Hesse - and a fourth much smaller figure standing between the three - Jacob. The beefy ones seemed to be holding Jacob in front of them. Steve had to give the kid credit, even with the illness that was certainly still plaguing his body, Jacob seemed to be putting up just enough of a struggle to have the goons focusing on him, as opposed to what was going on around them. Still, the kid's energy was clearly waning. As he and Danny drew closer, Steve was able to make out what Hesse was saying...

"So, you see, this was never about you or your mother. I used the two of you to get to Steve McGarrett."

"That doesn't make sense. Why would Commander McGarrett care what happened to us? We didn't even know him until that day."

"He didn't tell you, then," Hesse smirked, wanting to taunt the boy even further.

Steve did _not_ want Jacob to find out about their family this way. He glanced at Danny and got a quick nod of agreement before they both emerged from their cover of several empty packing crates:

"Five-0! Freeze!"

Neither were surprised when Hesse and his goons did the exact opposite. Hesse backed away, allowing his two goons and Jacob to be in the line of fire, effectively shielding him.

One goon looked from Steve to Danny and back again, then made a run for the exit. Danny took off after him.

"Aw, come on! Why do they always have to run?"

The second goon lifted Jacob to make him a better shield, knowing that Steve wouldn't risk shooting the boy. "Let the kid go," Steve told him with a forced calm.

"No way," the goon insisted. "I let him go and you shoot me. I ain't no idiot."

"Yeah," Steve said, a sneer spread across his face. "I can tell. But look at it this way. You put him down, maybe I shoot you in the shoulder." He paused to allow his words to sink in. "You don't put him down, I have no choice but to go for the head shot. Your choice," he finished, making a show of taking special aim at the guy's head, and doing his best to ignore the look of fear on Jacob's face. A fleeting glance told him that Danny had captured the runner and was now calling for backup, but there was no sign of Hesse.

Having considered Steve's words carefully, the goon set Jacob back down on the floor. "Smart move," Steve told him. "Now, toss the gun over here." As soon as the gun was out of the guy's reach, Steve glanced at Jacob. "Come on over here, buddy."

Jacob hesitated, not knowing who he could trust anymore.

"I'll explain everything later. I promise. But, for now, I need you to do what I say, okay?" Finally, Jacob came over and stood beside him. "You okay?"

Jacob nodded mutely. He was extremely pale and the sweat seemed to be pouring off him. Steve wanted to check him out, see for himself that the kid was indeed okay, but he needed to take care of this guy first. Despite the pasty complexion, he was pretty sure the kid was in no immediate danger.

Advancing on the beefy guy in front of him, Steve didn't even bother with the cuffs. Even if he hadn't been saving them for Hesse, there was no way they would fit over this guy's wrists. "Lay face down on the floor," he ordered. "Spread your arms out to the sides." Steve then placed his knee firmly in the guy's lower back, while he pulled a spare zip tie out of his pocket. It was a tight fit but a few seconds later and the wrists were secured behind the huge back.

He turned his attention back to Jacob. Which was when he noticed the kid was gone... again. He was gonna have to put a bell on this kid!

H50H50H50

Jacob was finally standing face to face with his mother's killer, a two handed grip on the GLOCK Hesse and his goons had been too stupid to search him for... and he couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. He _had_ to do this. For his mom! His finger tensed on the trigger. Sweat was dripping into his eyes, blurring his vision, but he wasn't about to take one hand off the gun to wipe it away.

H50H50H50

Victor Hesse watched the kid with trepidation. His own gun was tucked away in his waistband but the kid looked a little twitchy, so he didn't want to take the risk of reaching for it only to have one of those twitches snag on the trigger of the GLOCK which was currently staring him in the face. He watched as the kid's hands shook. He smirked when he saw the rivulets of sweat pouring down his face, the way his eyes lost focus for a second or two. This kid was not well, which meant all Hesse had to do was wait him out. Stall. He had to stall until the little brat collapsed.

"Come on, kid. I did you a favour by killing your mom. She did nothing but lie to you, anyway."

"Don't talk about her like that!"

"It's the truth kid. Trust me. I should know. My mother did the same to me," he offered with a shrug.

He held back the smile when he saw the spark of curiosity in the little runt's eyes, then put just the right amount of pain into his voice and continued: "She lied to me an' my brother more times than I can count. In fact, my brother was all I had, until _your brother _killed him!"

"I - I don't have a brother," the brat stuttered.

"Not a very smart little bloke, are you? Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

"Shut up, Hesse," came the all too familiar voice from the darkness.

Victor peered past the kid and forced a smile when he saw McGarrett approach, gun drawn and aimed. Then he realized this could work in his favour. If he could twist things around so that McGarrett was more concerned about the boy than about capturing his father's killer, he might just make it out of this jam.

H50H50H50

Jacob did his best to ignore the dizziness that was becoming more and more frequent, and forced the nausea down.

"I can't believe you didn't tell 'im. That's cold. Even for you, McGarrett."

"Tell me what?" Jacob turned just slightly to eye Steve with suspicion.

"Don't listen to him, buddy. Why don't you go back outside with Danny, huh? I can handle this from here."

"See? He's trying to keep you from finding out the truth," Hesse told him.

"Shut up, Hesse. Or I promise you, I will kill you."

The fierceness in Steve's voice told Jacob that at least some of what Hesse was saying had to be true. He turned the gun on McGarrett. "What truth?"

Steve kept his gun trained on Hesse but his attention was momentarily diverted to Jacob. Which was exactly the moment Hesse had been waiting for...

He yanked his gun out of its spot at the small of his back and took aim...

BANG!

_A/N Sorry! I had to dish out one final cliffhanger before tying this story up into a neat little bow with the next chapter... or two. Please Review? I love each and every one of them. Every time I log into my email, I'm hoping for a review from one of you! ~Kelcor_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N I know this chapter is fairly short but I'm a little stuck on how I want to end this and, you've all waited so long, I wanted to at least give you something. So, I broke the final chapter into two. I hope you enjoy this installment. _

**_BANG!_**

The world instantly started moving in slow motion for Steve. He had been watching Jacob closely, the kid's finger hadn't even been on the trigger, so the shot hadn't come from his gun. Which left only Hesse!

Even as the sound of the gun shot ricocheted off the walls, Steve was holstering his gun and throwing himself through the air, a move reminiscent of his high school football days, before becoming the quarterback - except this time his motivation was much more than winning the state championship. This time his little brother's life was on the line. And he prayed he was not too late.

His nightmares of trying - and failing - to save his mother, his father, even Mary, came crashing back to the surface of his mind! Although, the death of his sister had been created solely in his subconscious, the loss of his parents was all too real. And, now, Hesse was trying to hurt Steve more than he had ever hurt him before, saving the best for last, so to speak. Jacob. Steve's newfound little brother, had become Hesse's new target. It wasn't that Steve loved Jacob _more _than he had his parents, but he had grown quite fond of him over the past week or so, a feeling which could possibly be called love - something the SEAL wasn't quite ready to analyze just yet. Plus, Jacob was just an innocent kid. Somehow losing a child always felt worse.

He heard the breath explode from Jacob's lungs as he made contact, tackling the kid to the floor of the warehouse with no regard for his own life. In the same move, he wrapped himself around Jacob, shielding him from Hesse... but Hesse wasn't there! Wait. He was there, but he was laying on the ground.

Steve's eyes swept the room, finally falling on his partner, smoke still rising from the barrel of his gun. Danny gave him a quick nod to indicate everything was under control. Taking Danny at his word, Steve pushed himself to his knees. In one swift movement, he tucked Jacob's gun beneath his waistband at the small of his back, then checked on Jacob, whose eyes were transfixed by a not so still Hesse. "You okay?" No response. Steve hooked a finger under the kid's chin and turned his face to meet his own. "Jacob. Are you okay?" Jacob nodded but his eyes were somewhat glazed over. That's when Steve took notice of the feverish heat emanating off the kid, the sweat pouring down his face. "Crap, kid, you're really burning up." Looked like another trip to the hospital was in their immediate future. He ran a hand through the boy's hair, then gave his neck a quick squeeze before returning his attention to his partner who had already made his way over to Hesse. Steve stood and tossed the final set of handcuffs, reserved specially for Hesse, over to Danny, who made quick work of slapping them on the wrists of their long time adversary. After that, the detective began tearing parts of Hesse's shirt into strips to form a makeshift bandage.

"Good work, Danno," Steve said sincerely. "Thanks."

Danny gave him his trademark lopsided grin which was always a precursor to some snarky comment or another, but the words never came. Instead, Danny's eyes whipped over to something a few feet to Steve's left. The SEAL turned just as Jacob snatched the gun from Steve's waistband and aimed it at Hesse, once again.

Now, Steve didn't really care much whether this monster lived or died. In fact, not too long ago, he had wanted him dead himself. But Steve couldn't allow Jacob to be the one to pull the trigger. He didn't want Jacob to ever have to deal with the emotional repercussions of taking a human life - monster or not.

"Jacob, kid, you don't want to do this."

"He killed my mother! He deserves to die!"

"I know how you feel," Steve ventured.

"How could you possibly know?"

"He killed my father, too."

Jacob's attention flicked to him for an instant, then returned to Hesse. "You're lying." The gun was shaking even in his two handed grip. "Why should I trust you?" He jutted a chin toward Hesse. "He says you've been lying to me since the first day I met you."

"Consider the source, Jacob." Steve knew he hadn't been totally truthful but he hadn't lied in the way that Hesse was trying to lead Jacob to believe. He'd been trying to protect the kid, not hurt him. He slowly made his way to Jacob's side, taking advantage of his current lack of focus.

Jacob didn't know who to believe anymore. He felt sweat dripping into his eyes again but couldn't swipe it away without taking one hand off the gun. Exhaustion had his arms lowering somewhat, the gun felt so much heavier than it had just moments earlier.

Hesse started to say something but, before he could aggravate the situation even further, Danny took one of the strips of cloth and stuffed it into the killer's mouth.

"Quiet, you," Danny told him, pointing at him as if reprimanding a child.

Hesse glared up at him but, with his hands cuffed behind his back, there was little he could do about it. Nor was he able to do much more than buck in surprise when Danny used more force than necessary to press the makeshift bandage to the wound. Then the detective hauled him to his feet, not caring at all when Hesse grunted in pain.

"Get him out of here, Danno," Steve said, more request than order.

Jacob turned at the sound of his voice, surprised to find him so close, then whipped back to face the now standing Hesse and Danny. "No," he yelled, bringing the gun up to bear on Hesse once again.

"Jacob," Steve whispered gently. "This isn't the way."

A tear slipped free and slid down Jacob's cheek and he did his best to wipe it away with one shoulder. "It's the only way. It's justice."

"No, it isn't, buddy. C'mon, give me the gun."

"No," Jacob insisted, mortified that the word had come more as a whimper than anything else.

"Your mom wouldn't have wanted this, Jacob."

His hands shook more than ever as his finger found the trigger, wanting desperately to put a bullet in the retreating back of Victor Hesse. "It should've been me," he said, so softly that if Steve hadn't been so close he never would have heard it.

"Hey," Steve told him sternly. "Don't ever say that!"

"She said it. She said it should've been me," he muttered, taking one hand off the gun and wrapping his arm around his middle, as if in physical pain. And, with his recent illness, maybe he was.

"Who said that, Jacob?"

"My mom," he admitted. Before Steve could argue that, Jacob said, "I'm all alone, now. I've got no one."

It was impossible for McGarrett to miss the tears in the kid's voice, the unbearable pain he was trying so hard to hold back. Steve quickly decided that now was the time for him to cross that emotional threshold and beat his way through the barriers Jacob had so carefully erected. The same walls Steve himself had put up all those years ago. But Steve's dad hadn't allow him to suffer alone. Steve certainly wasn't going to let his kid brother do it.

He easily removed the gun from the trembling hands and pulled Jacob toward him. As he wrapped his arms around the quaking shoulders, the boy's struggles were weak but persistent. Jacob wasn't alone, not by a long shot, but Steve knew that now would not be the best time to tell Jacob that he was his brother. Not after what Hesse had said about Steve lying to him, and certainly not with the kid's current emotional state. So, he just whispered into Jacob's sweat soaked hair, "You're not alone, buddy. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

Jacob practically vibrated with the effort of keeping the torrent of emotion coursing through him under control. He gripped Steve's shirt with one fist, alternating between pushing him away and pulling him closer.

"It's okay, kid," Steve told him. "Everyone's gone. It's just you and me, okay? You have to let it out before it kills you, buddy. Just, please, trust me enough to help you through this."

Jacob shook his head vigorously, still making a valiant effort to extricate himself from McGarrett's hold. But, after a brief moment, a sob tore itself out of the boy, literally folding him in half in Steve's arms. A second one quickly followed. Then another. Steve supported Jacob's weight at first, then lowered him gently to the ground, coming to his knees next to the boy, holding him tight against his chest. The sobs continued to shake the small form in his arms, he could feel the tears soaking his shirt, as the kid finally grieved over the loss of his mother. Not to mention the pain of the years spent being beaten by Scotty, something else Steve was going to want to talk to him about. But not now. The kid had enough to deal with, without Steve opening up old wounds.

Finally, the sobs receded and Jacob leaned even more heavily against Steve's chest. Upon closer examination, Steve saw the heavy lidded, unfocused eyes. Steve tucked Jacob's head beneath his chin, slipped an arm beneath his knees and scooped him up into his arms.

The kid struggled weakly against such a blatant display of vulnerability. "I c'n walk," he insisted, though his voice was not much more than a mumble.

"Sure, you can, kid," Steve replied, eating up the floor of the warehouse with a purposeful stride. "Sure, you can."

TBC

_A/N For those of you still following this story, I would love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. And thank you all so much for sticking with me! ~Kelcor_


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